


Never Had A Last Chance

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“-But you love her, Liam, yeah. She’s the one,” Louis interrupts to assure him, “You’re going to be happy together.” He says, and his chest aches but he’d live with it aching forever if Liam was going to spend forever happy.<br/>-</p><p>AU where Liam is getting married to a wonderful girl and asks Louis to be his best man, completely unaware of the fact that Louis has maybe been in love with him for the past three and a half years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Had A Last Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Standard Disclaimer: I don’t own One Direction. This work is entirely fictional and I would rather it was not shared with anybody portrayed in it, I’m just using the characters of the boys for a plotline in my head.
> 
> For the purpose of this story let's just say that neither Sophia nor Danielle exist, hence why Liam's fiancée is an original character. Apologies that this is also unbeta'd- any mistakes are my own inability to type/spell/do stuff right. Hope you like it!  :D

*

Louis can’t blame him for falling in love with a girl and wanting to get married, after all, Louis knows all too well you can’t help who you fall in love with.

Liam is out right now selecting flowers with his bride-to-be while Louis sits on his sofa alone downing Stella Artois and playing one-player FIFA on the X-Box. He would phone up Niall to see if he wants to come over to have a game but he’s sulking, you see; trying to drown everything in beer before he drowns in self-pity from overthinking the fact that the invitations have gone out and this is actually happening.

Erica is lovely. She’s gorgeous and smart and charming and all the sorts of things that Liam deserves and all the sorts of things that Louis is not, and maybe that’s why the problem exists in the first place.

Or maybe the problem is that when Liam first introduced himself as Louis’ new university flatmate seven years ago Louis thought he was hot; or somewhere in the first few months of clubs and alcohol, eleven-pm games of football in the middle of the road and four-am games of GTA Louis developed a small crush on his flatmate; or maybe it was that somewhere in the all years that proceeded and crying on each other’s shoulders and falling asleep piled on top of one another Louis fell in love with Liam and never quite managed to fall _out_ of love.

Maybe that’s the problem.

*

Louis jumps when there’s a knock at the door, almost choking on his beer and huffs as he puts down the controller and pads over to open it, revealing Zayn and his daft grinning face.

“Afternoon, Lou. Planning on leaving the house at all today?” Zayn says, inviting himself inside.

“No,” Louis grumbles, closing the door behind him and following Zayn over to the breakfast bar to sit down.

“So you’re going to sit inside pining all day and getting drunk by yourself? Christ, you could’ve at least invited me,”

“I’m not _pining_ , Zayn,” Louis stresses and when Zayn laughs he kicks him in the shin, deservedly.

“Ow, shit!” Zayn hisses, the grin not fading from his face, “Sure you’re not,”

Louis blinks at him, not amused.

Zayn shrugs before a look of thought crosses him and he takes Louis’ hand, pulls him up from his chair, dragging him into his bedroom and forcing him to sit on the end of the bed.

“Woah, what are you doing?”

Zayn’s got his head buried in Louis’ wardrobe and a pair of lightwash jeans come flying out towards Louis, “Getting you ready.”

“Ready for what?”

A sweater lands on the bed beside Louis as Zayn turns around and sighs as if the answer was obvious, “You’re not sitting around here all day. I’m going to phone Harry and Niall and we’re going to go out,”

Louis feels his chest sinking, he really cannot be bothered for this, not today, “Without Liam?” he asks in a quiet voice.

Zayn just looks at him, eyes dark and sombre before he throws a pair of Vans lightly over to where Louis is sitting, “Be ready in fifteen minutes,” he says and closes the bedroom door behind him as he leaves.

 

Louis loves his friends, he really does, but he doesn’t half wish that they would shut up. The bar is busy, even for a Saturday, and Louis’ head hurts which is probably due by the fact he’s been drinking since about 4pm and hasn’t stopped yet. Niall is cackling loudly, wrapping two arms tight around Harry’s head in an attempt to hug him while Harry sings the wrong lyrics Queen songs.

Zayn is sitting opposite him watching him warily.

“Louis…”

“Mhm?” Louis hums, the rim of his pint glass to his lips.

“What are you thinking?”

“Nothing,” Louis lies.

“You need to move on from him, Lou. He’s getting _married_ ,” Zayn carefully pries the glass from Louis’ hands and sets it down on the counter so he has his full attention.

“I know he’s getting married. Thanks for reminding me.” Louis says, reaching for his glass again and scowling when Zayn slides it out of his reach.

“I’m serious. It’s not good for you to be so hung up on Liam. It’s hurting you,” Zayn frowns.

Louis slumps forward and puts his head in his hands on the counter, “But I love him, Zayn. It’s not fair.”

“I know it’s not, babe,” Zayn runs his hand through Louis’ hair, smoothing it down off of his face, “But there’s plenty of other proper fit lads that you could like too. You gotta give them more of a chance than a quick shag and never calling them again.”

“It’s just that… just, I loved him before he even _met_ her- it’s not fair,” Louis swallows. Christ, he’s drunk right now. “I missed my chance three years ago, man, now he’s gone and he’s getting married to perfect-wonderful-Erica and leaving me all by myself to grow old and die alone with nothing and nobody. I hate him,”

“No you don’t,”

“No…” Louis screws his eyes shut, feeling guilty about having said that, “I don’t. I can’t even hate Erica- she’s like perfect, and she’s perfect for him and he really deserves to be happy it’s just that I-”

“Lou,” Zayn says quietly, slipping down off his stool to bundle Louis up in his arms, kissing the top of his head. “We’re going to get you over him and the two of you will be best buddies and Liam won’t suspect there was ever anything else, right? And we’re going to find you a hot new bloke and in ten years’ time you’ll be able to laugh about all of this, I promise you,”

Louis doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to laugh about this or anything like it. Not when it hurts this much.

“I love you, Zee.”

“Mm,” Zayn hums, and Louis raises his head, “love you too.”

“Guys! Guys!” Niall stumbles over to them, red-in the face and grinning, lurching forward as Harry crashes into him, “Liam’s finished flower shopping so we told him to meet us down here,”

Louis sits upright, making a mental note to kick Niall later, and his eyes flick anxiously to Zayn who is glaring at Niall as if he could incinerate him right on the spot.

“Really, Ni? You’ve invited him _here_?” he asks through gritted teeth. Niall is oblivious though, nodding excitedly.

“Yeah, but don’t worry. He’s not bringing his chick, we said lads only,”

Louis should feel relieved, but he doesn’t. He paints on a small smile and holds one hand to his head, “Oh, really? I was just about to go home. I got a, uh, bit of a headache,” he stands up from his stool, shrugging his jacket up his shoulders, “Tell him I said hi.. I’ll, speak to-”

“Louis, no!” Harry jumps, grabbing hold of his wrist in a death grip, “You’re not allowed to leave; it’s like half-seven!”

Louis squirms, trying uselessly to get Harry to let go of him, “God you’re like a leech clinging to me,” he says fondly as he shakes his arm again.

“Just stay for fifteen minutes when he gets here. He hasn’t seen you in ages, he’d love it,” Harry looks at him with big, puppy eyes and nobody in their right mind could say no to that face.

“Ten minutes,” Louis agrees and Harry finally drops his wrist, bounding back over to Niall. Louis feels Zayn’s hand on his back, rubbing comfortingly and leading him to go and sit down in a booth. He wouldn’t survive without Zayn.

“Ten minutes, that’s all,” Louis repeats and Zayn doesn’t even try to argue with him.

When Liam arrives he wanders in through the door, pushing back his windswept hair and grinning widely. His cheeks are flushed and gorgeous pink and he obviously hasn’t shaved today from the dusting of golden stubble along his jaw and Louis wants to stand up and walk across the pub to kiss him.

But he doesn’t, obviously.

His smile is bright and Louis is afraid to stare for too long in case he gets blinded so he drops his gaze back to his hands on the table, feeling Zayn scoot a little closer to him and patting his arm.

“Payne is here!” Niall sings, springing over to Liam and clapping him on the shoulder, “How’d daisy picking go?”

“Oh yeah, it was thrilling,” Liam laughs and unzips his jacket just as Harry tugs on his sleeve to drag him over to the booth where Zayn and Louis are seated.

“Alright, lads?” Liam smiles and sits down opposite them, Louis only nodding in response as he’s not sure what would happen if he opened his mouth.

“Not long til the big day now, eh?” Harry plonks himself down next to Liam. “Ooh ooh! Shotgun being in charge of your Stag Night!”

“Oh, Christ,” Zayn groans, shaking his head, “It’ll end up like The Hangover with you in charge.”

“Male or female stripper, Li?” Harry asks, a stupid grin playing on his lips.

“Oh right, so that’s the first thing that matters?” Liam chuckles and shakes his head at Harry too.

 “Not going to get cold feet and run away before the wedding?” Niall tilts his head to rest on Harry’s shoulder, looking at Liam with baby blue eyes.

“No..no.. I’m in this for the long run, mate,” Liam smiles, glancing down bashfully and Louis can’t do this, he really _cannot_ do this.

“Ugh, well, it was nice to catch up with you all,” he says, getting to his feet, ten minutes was too long of a promise anyway, “but I’ve got a killer headache and work in the morning so…”

“Oh,” Liam’s entire face drops and blinks up at Louis, “you going already? I’ve hardly seen you the last few weeks,”

Louis can’t look at his face, not when Liam’s eyes are all big and sad and his eyebrows are drawn together, “I really… I don’t feel well,” he manages half-heartedly.

“Wait, Lou, if you’re going I,” Liam stands up, still looking upset and shuffles past Harry and Niall out of the booth, “I’ll walk you out. I got something I need to ask you anyway,”

Louis looks over to Zayn for help but he’s on his phone and not paying attention, so he just gives a small nod and starts to weave his way through the tables and bar stools towards the door, avoiding looking back to see if Liam’s following him.

Once he’s outside the door swings shut before Liam pushes it open and steps outside with him. The night is chilly and as the cold hits Louis’ face he realises that, okay, maybe he is a bit more tipsy than he’d like to be in this situation but Liam is standing there and balling his hands up in his sleeves like little sweater paws and Louis wants to kiss the tip of his button nose.

He doesn’t.

“What did you want to ask me, Payno?”

“Well, I didn’t want to say it in front of the other lads but like, if you want to,” Liam’s staring at his shoes and rubbing his arm and it really shouldn’t be as adorable as Louis finds it, “like, for the wedding… I want you to be my best man.. if you want to be, that is,”

Louis jaw physically drops and he freezes for a second, frowning at Liam, “You- you really want me? To be the best man? Not… not one of the other guys?”

Liam shakes his head and he slowly meets Louis’ gaze, “No, that’s why I wanted to ask you away from everyone else. You- you’re my best friend and have been since uni, and I’ve known you longest out of the lot and well, it’s okay if you don’t want to.. Zayn can do it.. but I think it would be really great if you could,”

“Yeah,” Louis nods, voice quiet before he even has time to register what he’s saying and what he’s agreeing to, “Yeah I’d love to be your best man, Liam,”

“You will?” Liam’s face lights up and he smiles so bright and so beautiful Louis’ stomach flips over.

“Uh huh,” Louis bites the inside of his cheek, giving Liam a small smile in return.

“Ahh! Thank, thank you Louis!” Liam beams, pulling Louis into a hug so tight he’s worried his back may break.

Louis doesn’t even try to resist; just melts into Liam as always, pressing his face into Liam’s jacket and breathing him in; being held against him all warm and solid in the icy night air and somewhere along his train of thought Louis ends up wishing he could stay like this forever.

“You going to be alright to get home on your own?” Liam asks and Louis almost frowns as suddenly he’s cold again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. You know my flat’s just up the road,”

“Alright then,” Liam agrees, smiling softly, “Thank you, again, Louis,”

“Hey, no problem,” Louis says, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him this is a _very big problem_. “I’ll see you later, then, bro,”

“Yeah, later,” he hears Liam’s voice say as he’s turning and heading back inside.

Louis kicks at the pavement, scuffing the end of his shoe and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A very big problem.

 

 

“And you agreed?” Zayn doesn’t even sound angry he just sounds sad.

Louis groans and slips further down on the sofa, when his phone buzzes against his thigh in his pocket.

“Who’s it from?” Zayn asks and Louis turns his phone away from him.

“Liam. He wants to know when is a good time to start getting suits fitted,” Louis throws an arm over his eyes and drops his phone on the seat. “Oh god, I’m going to have to write a speech and everything, this is a bad idea. Zayn, why didn’t you warn me this was a bad idea?”

“You’re not doing anything this afternoon,” Zayn shrugs and Louis lifts his arm slightly so he can look puzzled at him. “Go start suiting up today,” he elaborates.

“I guess,” Louis hovers over the keyboard on his phone before sending off a reply. “He’s getting married.” He says more to himself than anything.

“Look, Louis, you’re not even trying to help yourself here. What do you want to do about it? Tell him weeks prior to his wedding?”

Louis frowns, closes his eyes and swallows thickly. He doesn’t give Zayn an answer, just sighs and ignores the buzz of an incoming text message again. No, telling Liam would be selfish and unfair and besides, it’s not like it would change anything, anyway, just might make Liam mad.

Louis keeps his eyes closed. “Let me know how it goes,” Zayn’s voice says and then there’s the sound of his apartment door swinging closed and Louis is left alone.

 

The changing room curtain slides open and Louis turns around upon hearing Liam’s voice ask, “What about this one with the little blue waistcoat underneath the blazer?”

Louis pauses and eyes Liam for a moment, as if he has to think about an answer. Liam could stand at the altar in jogging bottoms and still look ridiculously handsome, but, “I liked the one with the cream better,” he shrugs, still holding out his arms as the seamstress sizes him up, “Because then you could get the little flower to pin on it.”

“Hmm, good point,” Liam looks down at the tux he’s currently wearing before vanishing behind the curtain again.

The seamstress finishes off with Louis and winds her tape measure up before bustling off out the back somewhere and returning moments later with a tux very similar to Liam’s, kept hanging in a plastic zip up case, “There you go, my dear. Just pop in the changing room and try it on and we’ll see if we need to make any adjustments,” she hands it to him, giving his shoulder a squeeze and pointing him the direction of where to get changed.

The sleeves of the blazer come down to halfway across his hands and the bottom of the trousers may need taking up a tiny bit but apart from that the suit fits wonderfully. Actually, he doesn’t look half bad. Smiling, he straightens up his collar in the mirror and pulls back the curtain just as Liam steps out of his in the jeans and t-shirt he arrived in.

He grins brightly at Louis, “Wow,”

“Does it look alright?” Louis asks, tilting his chin down and pushing a little dimple into the knot of his tie.

“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s definitely go for the cream waistcoat one,” Liam nods, handing back the tux they decided against to the seamstress.

Louis smiles and looks over his shoulder, “The length on the trousers is a bit long, and they don’t do much for my arse, do you think?” he grins, tapping his own bum.

Liam laughs and tilts his head to look at him, “Don’t worry, your arse is lovely Louis,” he says fondly and, despite being the one who asked him to look, Louis still blushes.

The seamstress waddles over and crouches down with a few pins between her lips, and begins to tack up Louis’ trousers so he won’t end up tripping over them.

“Oh! What about shoes, where should we go for them?” Liam asks and Louis opens his mouth to say something, but it’s like Liam can read his mind because he quickly adds, “And no, you are not wearing Vans or Toms and you must wear socks at my wedding.”

Pretending to pout, Louis huffs, but Liam is still beaming and Louis’ chest tightens because apparently that’s his default reaction to Liam smiling.

“I’ll be sure to include in my best man speech that you’re a mean, fun-destroying prick,” he says flippantly.

Liam laughs and rolls his eyes, “Oh, you love me,”

And Louis thinks, yeah, he does.

 

Zayn literally has to shove Louis into some suitable clothes and drag him to Liam’s door for this supposedly ‘wonderful evening’ that Erica has planned. He knocks on the door and drops Louis’ arm as it swings open and Niall all but hauls the pair of them inside.

“Zayn and Tommo are here!” Niall calls out and Liam appears from the kitchen, wearing a ridiculous batman apron and grinning at them.

“Honey, Zayn and Louis have arrived,” he says back into the kitchen before Erica appears behind him and hooks he chin on his shoulder, whispering something before sidling past him to greet them.

“Zayn! Louis!” she smiles, hugging each of them with one arm and giving them a kiss on their cheeks. “You made it. Liam and I were beginning to worry that you wouldn’t,”

“Yeah, well,” Louis tries to smile and give her a half hug back before he feels a pair of long arms squeeze him from the side.

“Louis!” Harry croons, “We need to start thinking about Li’s Stag Party, seeing as though you are best man and all,” he untangles from the hug and bumps Louis’ hip with his own.

“Do you ever not think about parties?” Zayn asks, wandering over to give Harry a hug too.

“Um…” Harry looks thoughtful, and like he’s about to answer the question when there is another knock at the door and he turns around, “I’ll get it.”

Ruth and Nicola enter and more hugs and kisses are exchanged before Erica shoos Liam back to the kitchen to check if the dinner has been burnt. Louis may or may not be rather disappointed he didn’t get a hug off Liam like his sisters did.

They’re ushered into the living room Nicola brings out a bottle of wine, Niall flicks on Sky Sports News and Louis shrinks into the corner of the sofa, eyes fixed on the presenter reading out the results of the Man U versus Liverpool game and only half listening to the ideas that Harry has on the subject of the party.

“We should make it last a weekend. Steal our Liam and bugger off somewhere,” he shakes Louis’ arm, who makes a non-committal hum and nods, “somewhere with clubs- and bars.. and a swimming pool and-”

“And who’s going to pay for all this, hm?” Zayn asks, sitting across in the armchair.

“We can all chip in a little bit. It doesn’t have to be abroad.. just fuck off to Bournemouth for a couple of nights.”

“That’s…” Louis begins, “not actually a bad idea.”

“Thanks, Lou,” Harry grins widely, dimples popping up in his cheeks.

Erica wanders into the living room at that moment, smiling with two girls behind her, “Everyone this is Lucy, my sister, and Eleanor, my best friend and maid of honour,” she introduces them, who both wave and take seats on the other sofa that Erica just gestured to.

“Wait is this like some bridesmaid and groomsmen gathering?” Niall asks, not tearing his attention away from the television screen.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Erica tells him, “Liam and I thought it would be good for you to all get to know each other a bit, my brother will be here soon too,”

Louis reckons that if she says _‘Liam and I’_ one more time he might cry.

“Errie!” Liam calls from the hallway, “Greg is here!”

Zayn raises his eyebrows at Louis and nods, not very subtly, like he’s been doing with every kinda-cute lad they’ve encountered for the past few months. Louis ignores him and turns back to the TV after a small, “Hi, I’m Louis.”

Liam comes in later, still wearing his daft apron, and gestures for Louis to scoot up on the sofa so he can sit down. There’s not really much room for him without them all being squished, but Louis doesn’t have a problem being pressed up against Liam and under his arm as they watch the second half of the football match. He’s almost upset when Erica tells them that dinner’s ready and they all have to get up.

“Louis,” Zayn grabs his wrist in the hallway as everybody else piles into the dining room.

“What?” Louis snaps.

“You’re doing it again,”

“Doing what?”

“ _Louis_ ,”

Louis blinks at Zayn, expression blank.

“You’re not helping yourself. You’re not even trying to help yourself, you-” Zayn sighs, loosening his hold and stares at him with a look somewhere between sympathetic and exasperated. “You-”

“Zayn! Louis! I’m going to eat yours too in a minute!” Niall’s voice shouts.

They choose to ignore him and Zayn’s whole expression softens even more, “Louis, I don’t get it. Why are you so loyal to a boy who doesn’t even…” he trails off and drops Louis’ hand.

Louis shoves down the heavy feeling in his chest and takes a step back. He’s been asking himself the same question for the last three and a half years, “Come on. Dinner.” He says bluntly, turning into the dining room without a second glance at Zayn.

 

Three weeks until the wedding date and every single day Louis wakes up feeling like his hearts being crushed a little bit tighter in a vice. He knows he can’t have Liam; he’s soon to be one-hundred-per-cent off the market for good, but Louis has always found loopholes and ways to get what he wants anyway- except this time he can’t.

Around noon he wakes up and begrudgingly throws the duvet cover off of him but picks it up again as the cold hits him and wraps it around his shoulders, padding out of his bedroom, barefoot and in his boxers as he drags the duvet along to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

The kettle finishes boiling with a click and Louis pours it into his mug, stirs as he adds the milk and tosses the teabag in the bin.

He leans back against the counter, cradling the mug in his hands and somehow ends up thinking about how when he used to room with Liam in university and after that, Liam would add about four spoons of sugar and god knows how he could drink that stuff; and Liam would always hang his clothes up as opposed to creating a pile of screwed up outfits on the floor; and Liam would, and still does, get up at unearthly hours to go for a jog in the drizzly rain; and then he thinks that maybe he needs to stop thinking about Liam all together because he’s _getting married_ exactly three weeks from today.

A knock at the door brings Louis out of his daze and he sets his mug down to go pull it back and give a dirty look to whoever is on the other side because, honestly, who is knocking at his door at this time of- oh, half-past-twelve, but still he-

“Hey Louis!” Niall greets, inviting himself inside.

“Hi, Lou,” Liam says with a small laugh, following Niall in.

“Come in, why don’t you both,” Louis says sarcastically, swinging the door shut and shuffling over to where Liam and Niall stand.

“Did we wake you?” Liam asks and Louis shakes his head, hugging the duvet tighter across his body- and, it’ not like Liam’s never seen him before, he just feels more and more self-conscious around Liam as he slips further and further out of his reach.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“What days are you working the week after next?” Niall answers him with another question.

“Uhm, I’m not sure. Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday I think. Why? What’s going on?”

Niall’s shoulders drop, “Is there any chance you could get Saturday off?”

“I could try… but why-”

“Well, Harry is a bit over-excited with the Stag Night and is currently looking up hotels we can stay the weekend in in London,” Liam explains with a small shrug, “And another thing. You haven’t been answering your phone, Louis-”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, I broke the charger,” Louis lies. He just hasn’t had the power to answer Liam’s texts for a day or two, that’s all.

“I’ve hardly seen you lately when it doesn’t involve organising things for the wedding,” Liam says sadly and Louis averts his gaze to the floor. He hasn’t been avoiding him. Not that much, anyway.

“Sorry,” Louis picks up his tea-gone-cold for something to do with his hands, “I guess I’ve just been busy,”

“Too busy to even get dressed,” Niall tuts with a laugh and Louis flips him the V-sign.

“Why don’t you put some clothes on and come for a kick about with me and the boys,” Liam suggests and Louis doesn’t even have to think as he answers- because saying ‘no’ to Liam is not an option he seems to be able to take.

 

It’s almost exactly like it used to be; the four of them floundering about after a ball as Zayn sits to the side and claims to be ‘referee’.

Harry spends the majority of the time tripping over his own legs while Niall rolls around on the floor demanding Zayn to send everyone off, and the only ones who are actually interested in playing are Liam and Louis. So, actually, it _is_ exactly like it used to be and even with Liam running around in a thin t-shirt in the middle of January, Louis hasn’t had this much of a distraction in ages.

Football has always been one of the only things that he takes seriously, and he’s never more stubborn or motivated than when he’s got the ball at his feet. The goals they’ve set up consist of their abandoned coats and jackets, and two-aside-matches shouldn’t really work, well they don’t really work, but Louis is still grinning and determined to win- even if his only teammate does spend most of the time waddling around the pitch like a new-born, curly-haired giraffe.

Louis dribbles the ball up the grass, constantly glancing over his shoulder to check whereabouts Niall is trying to tackle him from when he almost slams straight into Liam’s chest before spinning around and trying to unravel his legs from Liam’s without losing possession of the ball.

Liam is pressed up right against Louis’ back and he manages to manoeuvre his foot close enough to brush the ball, then tries to drag it back, tangling his ankles with Louis’ and sending them both stumbling to the ground with Louis landing half on top of Liam with a loud “oof”.

Despite how hard his heart is beating, Louis brackets his legs across Liam’s and laughs, darting his hand out to pinch Liam’s nipple who lets out an undignified shriek. “Dickhead,” he grins as Liam makes a grab for Louis’ wrists that he’s flailing around.

“Cheater,” Liam clutches a hold on Louis’ hands, smiling so wide his eyes disappear into adorable squints, and tries to push him off.

What a sight it must look, a bunch of grown men rolling around in the park as Harry flings himself on top of them crying, “Dog pile!”

Louis swears as Harry lands on him, startling him and making him jerk his head forward only to collide foreheads painfully with Liam, “Ow!”

“Ahh fuck!” Liam curses through a laugh, rubbing his head with his hand.

“Sorry,” Louis says bashfully, beaming down at Liam who blinks up at him through his eyelashes and crinkles his face into a giggle and Louis really _really_ wants to kiss him. He settles for smacking a peck on the point he hit Liam instead, “There we go, kissed it better,”

“I’m healed!” Liam declares, still smiling wide as he tries, and almost succeeds, in pushing both Louis and Harry off of him, “Get off you great lumps,” he says, rolling the two off them onto the grass.

“I resent being referred to as a ‘lump’, Liam Payne,” Louis says, lying on his back in the field next to Liam.

Liam laughs again and gently kicks Louis’ foot with his own, “Shut up, Tommo.”

 

The more Louis can’t have Liam, the more he turns into a blushing eleven year old- giddy with their first crush around him. He never used to be this bad, he swears. Louis _knows_ he doesn’t deserve Liam; Liam is beautiful, charming, funny and kind and sweet, and Louis is sarcastic and sadand incredibly selfish as he spends most of his time thinking about a soon-to-be-married man.

But it still hurts.

 

Louis smiles at the lady on the other side of the counter telling her to enjoy the show and hands her her batch of tickets, sitting back in his chair with a sigh and spinning from side to side on it. He’s about to peek around the corner to see if any other customers are approaching when his phone begins to buzz in his pocket.

He ignores it for a while, until it doesn’t stop buzzing and he smiles ruefully at May, who runs the ticket office with him, as he apologises and slips out into the back to answer it.

“Liam, I’m kind of working at the minute,” he says, though he doesn’t sound frustrated at all.

“Sorry, sorry. I can call back later if you want,” Liam sounds sad on the other end of the line and Louis’ gut twists.

“No… what is it?” he asks softly.

“Well, this is really dumb but; I don’t think I can go this weekend,”

“What? Liam you have to! You can’t miss your own Stag Do!”

“Mhm,” Liam is quiet, “It’s just I’m not really comfortable leaving at the moment,”

“But Liam… It’s…” Louis says quickly cutting in, “Harry’s already paid for everything and it’s your _own_ party. Why can’t you come?”

Liam sighs on the other end, “It’s not that I can’t it’s just- no, never mind it’s stupid.”

“No, tell me. Is it Erica? Trouble in paradise?” Louis asks jokingly, trying to liven Liam up so he can stop sounding so bloody sad.

Liam just laughs quietly, “I think she’s just… we’re just… It’s probably just me being paranoid and stupid,”

“Li, that’s ridiculous, what are you paranoid about?”

“We’re just having a few disagreements is all,” Liam explains desolately.

“Talk to her. You’re both a bit stressed out because there’s not long left,” Louis says and his stomach sinks because he can almost visualise a sand-timer of how time is running out- not that he even _could_ do anything, but.

“You’re right. We’re just stressed. I mean, I know we can’t agree on everything for the rest of our lives ever, but I-”

 “-But you love her, Liam, yeah. She’s the one,” Louis interrupts to assure him, “You’re going to be happy together.” He says, and his chest aches but he’d live with it aching forever if Liam was going to spend forever happy.

“Yeah, we are,” Liam says and Louis can hear his smile through the phone.

Louis leans back against the wall, smiling sadly to himself, “Uh huh,” he says and it’s the fourth time this week he’s come dangerously close to crying, “So you gotta come, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m coming,”

“We’re going to get piss drunk, have a right laugh and celebrate the end of your freedom; yaaay!” Louis laughs but it sounds forced in his own ears.

“Oh god,” Liam laughs too, “sounds like fun.”

“You alright now, though?” Louis asks, in a quieter voice.

“I am now. Thanks, Lou. I don’t know what I’d do without you,”

“Mm, it’d be a sad life,” he says, “But I gotta get back to work now, okay?” as if wasting time at work was a large worry of his.

“Okay, I’ll see you Friday then?”

“See you, Li,” He hangs up.

Louis knocks his head back against the wall and squeezes his eyes shut. It feels as if some sort of boulder is firmly wedged within his chest. He runs a hand through his hair and blinks rapidly, trying to stop the tears from reaching his eyes and reminds himself that it doesn’t matter what he wants as long as Liam is going to be happy.

 

*

The room Harry has booked them is _huge_ with a window that takes up the whole of one wall presenting a view out over the lights and buildings clustering the entire city. There’s only one double bed in the room and a pull out sofa for two, so someone is going to have to sleep on the floor.

“Shotgun the bed!” Louis calls, leaping over and landing on his stomach on it as soon as he’s dumped his suitcase.

“You’re a child I swear,” Liam says fondly and Louis lifts his head to waggle his eyebrows.

“I also call the bed, providing Louis doesn’t steal all the covers,” Zayn says, wheeling his case in behind Harry and Niall.

“But it’s Liam’s weekend, you can’t make him sleep on a sofa or on the floor,” Niall insists.

“No.. it’s fine, I don’t mind,” Liam begins.

“So noble, Li, but no. You can have the honour of sharing with the wriggly worm over there,” Harry nods to where Louis is rolling onto his back on the bed, giving Harry the finger at his comment.

Louis props himself up on his elbows to grin, and hopes he doesn’t do something stupid like have any sort of teenage-like, inappropriate dreams. As long as that doesn’t happen, Louis is fine to fall asleep half on top of Liam because he’s warm and a good pillow and it’ll be just like when they came back from a night on the town in uni and crashed out all tangled together.

“Fine,” Zayn huffs, “I’ll share the sofa with Niall because Harry is even more fidgety than Louis.”

“Heyyy,” Harry whines, a grin playing on his face.

“Ha!” Louis pokes his tongue out at him.

“Right, it’s nearly eight,” Niall declares, glancing at the large clock on the wall above the dressing table, “who’s ready to get absolutely plastered?”

 

Louis shakes his head violently and slams the shot glass down on the counter at the same time as Niall, who’s red in the face and grinning.

“Fuck,” Louis breathes, laughing.

“Another! Another!” Niall cheers, waving to the bartender for more and slides one across to Louis.

He can feel the warmth of the alcohol settling in his stomach and grins lazily as he picks up the glass, tips his head back ready to down it but pauses as Zayn sidles up to the pair of them.

“Alright lads?” he perches on a stool next to Niall, a bottle of some fancy beer held tight in his hand.

“Brilliant. Amazing. Never better!” Niall beams then pinches Zayn’s cheek with his whole hand, “Where have you been hiding from us Zaynie?”

Zayn laughs and slaps Niall’s hand off of his face, “Went out for a smoke. Where are the other two wankers?”

“I dunno,” Louis shrugs, shot glass still poised in the air.

“Well I know that Harold is off dancing with everyone and everything somewhere,” Niall says.

“Hey,” Louis exclaims, banging his glass down so quickly it’s contents sloshes over the counter, “What a good idea; I wanna dance! Zayn, dance with me,” he stands up too quickly and giggles at the sudden rush to his head, wobbling on his feet.

“Woah,” Zayn grabs a hold of his arm and Louis buries his face into his shoulder, chuckling. Zayn is warm and he smells faintly of cigarette smoke and Louis wants in equal parts to fall asleep and wiggle around and dance until the alcohol travels to every inch of his body.

Zayn pushes him off his shoulder and pats his cheek, “I’m going to sit with Niall for a sec and get another drink. You go off and find Harry, alright?”

“Yeah,” Louis nods more times than necessary, “Yeah, alright.” as he begins to wander through the mass of bodies, the music just white noise in his ears.

In the end Louis doesn’t find Harry, but he does find a rather fit lad with sandy hair and a tight black top to wrap his arms around his neck and sway his hips from side to side with. It’s hot and Louis is flushed and drunk enough not to even be bothered when he feels the guy’s hands slip from their place on his lower back down to his bum.

He doesn’t look up, just continues the pendulum movement of his hips to the beat of the song. Louis may be completely out of time, but he doesn’t really care. It takes him a moment to register the tapping on his shoulder and when he does, he spins around out of the guy’s grasp and winds his arms around Harry’s neck, who is standing behind him.

“Hello, Lou,” Harry smiles down at him, voice slower and slightly more slurred than when Louis last saw him.

“Haaaaarry!” Louis says with a grin as he and Harry move in a loose swaying motion that doesn’t match the music at all, “Where oh where oh where have _you_ been hiding from us?” he asks, poking Harry’s chest accusingly.

“ ’V’not been hiding,” Harry would almost sound offended if it weren’t for the dopey smile on his lips, “Who’s your friend?” he asks, nodding over to where the lad Louis was just with is now dancing with a pretty red-haired girl.

“I have absolutely no sodding idea,” Louis whispers with a giggle, as if it was some sort of massive secret.

“Oh man,” Harry scrunches his face up with a laugh, curls falling into his eyes, “you should’ve been there twenty minutes ago. I think we’ve finally got Liam properly drunk,”

Louis’ stomach plummets and he completely throws the rhythm he and Harry were swaying in.

Liam.

Oh right, yeah. They’re here for Liam’s Stag Do. Because he’s getting married. Of course.

“Really?” he asks and his voice has most probably gone ridiculous and high pitched. He looks back over his shoulder but can’t seem to see Liam anywhere.

“Over there,” Harry says and Louis turns to follow where Harry’s pointing to.

Liam is dancing with one hand on a cute boy’s waist with a reasonable space between them and the other clutching a bottle.

He’s got his jeans slung stupidly low on his hips and Louis can see more than just the ‘Calvin Klein’ band around the top of his boxers, which is probably the result of Liam having neither a belt nor much of a bum, but still Louis can’t stop watching the gentle movements of his hips. He’s wearing a tight white t-shirt that is practically sticking to his torso and his obscene biceps, and his hair has fallen slightly from the quiff-slash-mohawk he styled it in before they left the hotel. He looks relaxed and content and absolutely gorgeous.

Louis is lucky he’s already holding onto Harry for support because he feels _very_ weak all of a sudden.

“Huh,” Louis manages, then quickly snaps his head back to Harry, “Let’s go get more drinks, come on,” he tugs his hand and leads him over to the booth Niall and Zayn are sat in, giggling with Niall’s head on Zayn’s shoulder, slipping further down the seat.

“Louiiis!” Niall sits up and falls into a hug as Louis sits down next to him, “You weren’t looking for Harry. You were dancing with that boy,” he says reproachfully.

“But I found him in the end. Look,” he points to Harry as he returns with five shot glasses of some God-awful looking concoction in his overly large hands.

“Oh shit,” he says, smile slipping off his face like liquid, “We left Liam over there. Lou, go get him,”

“Hmm’okay,” Louis sighs, standing up as Niall pushes him.

He worms his way through the crowd, walking with a bounce in time to the music where he finds Liam dancing with the same boy as before, but not even touching him now. Liam looks up and a smile stretches across his face as he spots Louis before he’s even said anything.

“Louis, hi!” he grins stumbling forward to him.

“Hey,” Louis smiles coyly back, and _Jeeesus_ , Liam looks beautiful. His hair is slightly damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead and his eyes are bright and brown and wide, his cheeks are flushed and his top is stretched taut over his shoulders and Louis just wants to drag him out back so he can crowd him against a wall, drop to his knees and blow him right there and then.

“Where are the others?” Liam asks and blinks, looking down into his empty bottle.

“They’re sitting in a booth waiting for you, Payno,” Louis replies and goes to punch Liam’s arm jokingly, instead of grabbing his face and snogging him, but misses completely. Liam just laughs and covers his mouth with his hand which has Louis laughing too until Liam pulls him in and he’s tucked under Liam’s arm and giggling into his side.

Louis is possibly very, _very_ drunk as he stops laughing long enough to give Liam a sharp bite on his chest through his t-shirt. Liam lets out a surprised squawk and pushes Louis’ face up so he can see the cheeky grin he’s being given. Liam just laughs quietly again, but doesn’t remove his hand from Louis’ jaw.

Louis’ breath catches in his throat.

It feels for a minute like Liam is going to duck his head and kiss him. And Louis doesn’t know what he’d do if he did.

“Come on,” Liam drops his hand and wraps his arm properly around Louis’ shoulder and Louis’ chest feels five times heavier, “Where’s the others?” he repeats.

Louis drags him back to where the other three are sitting with a shot glass each in front of them and promptly ducks out of Liam’s hold to sit down next to Zayn.

“Here he is. Man of the weekend,” Niall grins and tugs Liam’s arm down so he’s sitting next to him.

“You flatter me,” Liam retorts, catching the glass that Harry slides to him.

“What? This is your weekend, mate,” Harry says, “who knows when we’ll get another chance to get as shitfaced as this all together when you’re all off and married,”

Louis’ heart is trying to jump out of his chest, jump towards Liam screaming _look at me, I love you, I love you_ and maybe it’s just the heat in here that’s making his eyes water as he stares down into his shot glass.

“Alright lads, this one can be for Liam, okay?” Niall is saying but all the sounds reaching Louis’ ears are fuzzy. “One, two, three!”

 

Louis wakes up around six in the morning with one leg swung over Liam’s and his face smooshed into Liam’s neck. It feels nice and comfortable to lay on the rise and fall of his chest and Liam is warm. So warm.

Louis doesn’t have long to enjoy it though before the nausea settles in his stomach and he scrambles out of the bed, almost tripping over Harry on the floor, to the bathroom to throw up. He doesn’t even remember how much he had to drink last night. However, that’s probably a good thing.

 

When he awakens again some four hours later, the space in the bed next to him is empty and cold. There’s light pouring in from a gap in the curtains and it stings Louis’ eyes. His head is pounding and he groans as he rolls over to see a mug of tea on the bedside table with a post-it-note reading “Louis (:”  in Liam’s handwriting on it. Louis really loves him.

He feels groggy and disgusting and his head is absolutely hammering, warning him that the consequence of moving involves being sick and _death,_ probably. He sits up cautiously; squeezing his eyes tight shut and reaches for the tea only to find its gone cold by now.

Niall is still lying on his front on the sofa bed, one arm hanging off and mouth open in an ‘o’ shape. The other three are gone.

“Niall,” he croaks, slowly forcing himself out of bed to crouch down in front of Niall. “Niall, get up,”

“Ugrrhh,” Niall groans and half opens his eyes only to snap them shut straight again. “Go away. I’m dead,”

“You’re not dead,” Louis tells him, though he sympathises as he feels the about same, “Get up. The hotel has a massive breakfast downstairs and we don’t want to miss it. They might have a fry up,”

“Ugh,” Niall rolls over and throws an arm over his eyes, “God, okay,” he winces, “I’m up, I’m up. What even happened last night?” he asks, sitting up and rubbing his forehead.

“Dunno. Lots of drinking, I think. And we get to do it all again tonight!”

 

They’re at a different club this time, though, much to Harry’s dismay, not a strip club. Louis is suitably tipsy and he doesn’t mind that he has no clue where the others have buggered off to; he’s content on dancing on his own, eyes shut light with one finger pointing in the air as he shakes his hips to and fro.

He feels like he could possibly float away if he held his breath for long enough.

The music is pulsing and the lights still flash behind his closed eyelids. It’s incredibly hot and packed with dancing bodies, but it’s fine- with the alcohol coursing through his system, it’s better than fine.

A pair of unfamiliar hands hover by his hips and Louis turns around to see a tall, dark haired boy looking questioningly at him. Louis gives him a small smile as consent and continues his movements with the guy pressed up against his back moving to the music with him.

Louis is possibly more than ‘suitably tipsy’ but it’s not like anything matters much anymore, Liam is getting married and it’s not to him and all he can think is _ah fuck it_ as he spins around and wraps his arms around the guy’s neck and tips his head back, moving with a little more vigour to the music as he was before.

The hold on his hips is tighter now and Louis still doesn’t do anything, not even when he feels teeth on the bottom of his neck, biting and sucking what’s sure to be a little bruise in the morning.

There’s a cough from behind and the hands on his hips suddenly drop away, Louis looks over to see Liam standing by him, shuffling his feet awkwardly and looking up at him with those wide eyes of his.

“Sorry, Lou- I was just-” Liam begins.

“No what is it?” Louis asks, ignoring the sigh from the guy he was just with as he wanders away to find someone else.

“It’s- whatever,” Liam shrugs, then tugs on Louis’ hand, “Dance with me?”

Louis’ heart is in his throat but he smiles back at Liam and holds onto his shoulders in more of a loose hug than anything. Liam’s arms snake their way around his waist and Louis is _definitely_ going to float away now.

Louis wonders if Liam can feel his heart beating irregularly.

They aren’t even in time with the song and it’s really hot and there are so many people around, but Louis hasn’t ever felt as safe as when Liam’s got him. He looks up and gives a soft smile back when he notices Liam smiling down at him.

Liam is really beautiful.

The blue and purple lights above the dance floor fall on his face and his cheeks are pretty and pink. His jaw has the shadow of stubble on it that makes Louis’ knees go weak and his hair is beginning to fall out of place like it did yesterday. His eyes are warm and soft and brown and his lips are red and shiny with alcohol and-

-and Louis might possibly be staring.

He’s also drunk.

Before he’s even had a split second to think about it Louis has pushed up on his tippy toes and is pressing his mouth hard against Liam’s. Somewhere in the back of his mind is the very real possibility that Liam is going to shove him off and then punch him, only-

Only Liam is actually kissing him back; hot and with just as much urgency as Louis is, tugging lightly on his bottom lip and pulling Louis closer to him by the hand on the small of his back.

Louis makes a small sound at the back of his throat and his hips involuntarily rock forward.

That’s when Liam ducks his head and breaks his lips from Louis’. Louis takes a step back; eyes wide with panic and feeling his hands shake ever so slightly.

“Shit. Shit. Liam- shit, I’m so sorry, I-” he feels worse than he did when he woke up this morning.

“Louis…”

“Oh fuck, sorry, Liam. Sorry, I’m just going to-” Louis backs away again. “I’ll find Harry. Shit, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he mumbles, hands still trembling as he hurriedly pushes through the bodies on the dance floor, trying very hard to ignore the lump in his throat and the rock sinking in his stomach.

 

*

In the end Louis doesn’t go to the rehearsal wedding dinner. He sends a text to Liam saying both the twins have got chicken pox and he had to rush back to Doncaster to help out his mother, then turns his phone off so he doesn’t have to see any replies. Zayn promises to fill in for him as best man.

He hates himself. He hates the fact that he’s selfish. He hates the fact that he’s not enough for Liam. He hates the fact that he’s always been too much of a coward to ever admit to Liam how he feels and he hates that he kissed Liam right before he’s about to get married.

He locks himself in the apartment and ends up mixing Baileys with his tea as he lies on the sofa watching a bunch of sad romantic films to torture himself even more.

It’s been four days since they got back from the weekend away and the only person Louis has spoken to since then is Zayn. Once to tell him what had happened. Once to tell him that he _cannot_ go to the rehearsal dinner, let alone the real wedding.

He still loves Liam, though. He still loves him with every single fibre of his being and it’s actually killing him.

He falls asleep thinking of brown eyes, adorable giggles and soft smiles and wakes up thinking of how he will never deserve Liam. Not in this, or any other lifetime.

Louis cries a fair amount too. Not just little sniffles either; he buries his head in the armrest of the sofa and shakes with the sobs that wrack his body. He generally falls asleep empty and exhausted afterwards.

Louis is sitting with his knees drawn up to his chin as he sips his tea slowly. He’s been crying this evening and his eyes are still stinging and it’s left him with a dull ache in his head to match the dull ache in his chest.

He’s just about to reach for the remote control to see if there are any dumb soppy films on that he can force himself to watch before he falls asleep when there’s a loud banging at his front door.

“Louis, open the fuck up!”

Louis jumps and spills his tea down his front, hissing at the burn, and looks up sharply to the door.

“Open the door, Louis!”

It’s Liam’s voice. Liam is outside the door. He’s come to punch him in the face and tell him that he’s never going to love Louis the way that Louis loves him.

He’d deserve it.

Louis pulls himself up and slowly walks over, opening the door with trembling hands to reveal Liam standing with his fist in the air as if he was about to knock again.

He looks about as good as Louis feels.

“Liam…” he says quietly, but Liam is shaking his head.

“I phoned your mum,” he says, folding his arms, “to see how the girls were doing. She seemed to think that they were perfectly fine and that you were still down here.”

“Liam…” Louis repeats, even quieter this time. His eyes probably look red and bruised and he wonders if Liam can guess that he’s been crying.

“Why are you- Louis, what are you even, just why-” Liam sounds frustrated, tugging at his own hair.

Louis pulls open the door a little wider and allows Liam inside. “Why aren’t you at the rehearsal dinner?” he asks.

“Why is Zayn all of a sudden telling me that you’re bailing on my wedding?” Liam snaps and Louis shrinks further in on himself.

He takes a shaky breath and looks down at his hands. He may as well do it now or never, “I just wouldn’t be able to fucking bare it… standing there… watching you get married to somebody else,”

“Louis, what…” Liam draws his eyebrows together, confused.

“What about you? Surely you should be at your own rehearsal dinner for your own wedding,” Louis points out, his heart still racing against his ribs.

Liam sighs and sits down on the armrest of the sofa, “Well there isn’t going to be a wedding anymore,”

“What?” Louis almost chokes, “No, god, I’m sorry. If it’s about the weekend… I’m sorry- I- I’ll tell Erica I-”

“Louis,” Liam looks up at him sadly then drops his gaze again, “don’t worry it’s not you. One kiss means practically nothing when she’s been sleeping with her ex for the last three months.”

Louis isn’t breathing. He takes a tentative step forward, hand outstretched slightly in front of him, “Oh, Li…”

Liam lets out a quiet, breathy laugh but there are tears in his eyes, “Louis- don’t. It’s… it’s whatever. That’s why I phoned you.. before we left.. I thought for ages that something was going on but I-” he trails off and shakes his head.

“Liam, sorry.. about everything.. oh god,” Louis takes another step forward with his arms out and then Liam is standing up and hugging him tight and Louis is about to start crying all over again.

Liam lets out a shaky breath against Louis’ skin and holds onto him as if he was going to go anywhere. Louis isn’t going anywhere.

“When did you find out?” he asks, talking into Liam’s hair.

“Sunday moring. When we came back early because you and Harry had already left. And I- I caught him leaving _our_ house, Louis _, our house,_ ” Liam mumbles into Louis’ neck.

Louis is angry. He can feel it bubbling within him. He has absolutely no idea who this bloke is but he desperately wants to find him and whack his face into a brick wall a couple of times and kick him in the nuts.

“It’s okay,” Liam says and he must’ve felt Louis tense. He loosens his hug on Louis and looks him in the eye, “It’s okay.”

Louis is looking right back and not moving. He can’t remember how to breathe. Liam lifts a hand slowly and pushes Louis’ fringe out of his eyes before planting a gentle kiss on top of his head.

“You can stay here tonight,” Louis blurts out without so much as a chance to think.

“Really? Louis, I don’t want-”

“It’s fine.” Louis shakes his head, “Really, you can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the sofa,”

“Louis, you don’t have to-” Liam begins to argue, but Louis steps out of his hug.

“You know where my room is, yeah? You’ll be okay. You can wake me if you need anything at all,” he tells him and Liam looks dubious.

“If you’re sure, Lou…”

“I’m sure,” Louis repeats and meets Liam’s eyes again, then vanishes to the airing cupboard down the hall quickly and returns with a blanket and two pillows that he dumps onto the sofa.

Liam looks absolutely drained but he still frowns slightly at Louis, “I can sleep here, Lou, I-”

“Don’t be an idiot, Li. Go on. You look shattered,”

“So do you,” he says.

“Hmm,” Louis says and there’s the tiniest of smiles on Liam’s lips, “Whatever. Goodnight, Li,”

“Night, Louis,” Liam replies and Louis lies down, flipping off the light and listening to Liam’s footsteps as he pads away to the bedroom.

 

Louis isn’t sleeping. He’s wide awake staring at the ceiling. He loves Liam so much it hurts and he wants to scream and hit things because Liam deserves the best and he deserves to be happy more than any person he’s ever met.

He shuffles around a bit and tries to get comfy but freezes when he hears a noise.

“Lou?”

“Liam?” Louis asks quietly, sitting up and turning the light up a little way.

“Did I- did I wake you?” Liam’s silhouette appears in the doorway before he steps into the light. He’s just wearing trackie bottoms low on his hips and his hair is all sticking up but Louis thinks he looks gorgeous. He also wants to kiss him but that’s hardly appropriate.

“No, I wasn’t asleep, I couldn’t…”

“Me neither,” Liam hugs his arms across his body and leans against the door frame.

“What’s the matter?” Louis tilts his head and shuffles up along the sofa so that Liam can sit down at the end.

“It’s just that- what you said earlier. What did you mean?” Liam looks sad and Louis hates it.

“What part of what I said earlier?”

Liam is silent for a moment, picking at a loose thread on his trackie bottoms, “When I asked you why you weren’t coming to the rehearsal dinner,”

“Oh,” he says as his chest drops.

“Louis, what did you mean?”

“I…” Louis begins, then stops with his mouth open. The words are on the tip of his tongue but he can’t get them out. He can’t. “I.. Liam, I don’t think… It’s not right to tell you,”

Liam frowns and he looks so fucking sad and Louis can’t stand it, “Tell me what, Lou?” he asks worriedly.

“Tell you… to tell you that I’ve been in love with you for almost four years now,” he rushes out all in one breath. Shit. Louis clenches his eyes shut and wanes back against his corner of the sofa. Shit. “Look, I’ll just. I’ll phone Zayn, I’m sure he won’t mind you staying for a while, I-”

He stops when he feels Liam’s hand close around his wrist and turns to look at him with large eyes.

“Say that again. The bit before about calling Zayn,” Liam says carefully.

“I.. I’ve been in love with you,” Louis’ voice is barely a whisper, “for nearly four years.”

Liam is kissing him. Gentle and as light as a feather, but he’s definitely kissing Louis- and Louis is frozen.

“Louis, can I tell you something?” Liam asks, drawing back an inch or two.

Louis barely manages to nod.

“Do you remember; it was your nineteenth birthday and Harry held you that party and you were freaking out about it. Because everyone you knew was going to be there and you wanted to look good- and I needed to hit my head on the desk or something because, Louis, you always looked beautiful but you never believed me nor anybody else when they told you. And then that night and you were a bit drunk and you were dancing with everyone, so blissed-out, and I realised that maybe I had a bit of a crush on you,”

“Li, you don’t-”

“No, let me finish. Then every Friday after we’d had a few pints we’d end up in the middle of the road, somewhere between our flat and the pub, kicking about a football and grabbing onto each other, laughing as we ducked out of the way of on-coming cars,”

“I remember,” Louis nods, not for a second breaking his gaze from Liam’s.

“And even after we’d both graduated uni and you’d fall asleep half on top of me, but I never minded, Lou. It always felt so good to hold you in my arms and you looked so pretty when you slept. Nobody on the face of this earth made me laugh as much as you did and nobody has a big a heart as you do and I reckon I must’ve been about twenty-one by the time I realised that I was in love with you.”

Louis is crying now, tears snaking their way down his cheeks and catching on his lips as he brings a shaky hand up to cup Liam’s jaw.

Liam looks like he’s about to cry too, but he continues to talk, “But by the time I met Erica I was convinced that you were never going to love me like that, so I tried to move on. I tried my very best and it was alright to an extent, because you were still one of my best mates and I had her and over time I almost felt the same way about her as I did about you. It was never _exactly_ the same, but I thought it was close enough and the next thing we know we’re planning our wedding and I-”

Louis blinks up at him, even if the tears clinging to his eyelashes are making everything a little blurry.

“and I- that’s it. It’s like- bam- this is it. This is how you’re going to spend the rest of your life, Liam, and well,” he finishes with a shrug and holds onto Louis’ little hand with his large warm hand where Louis is holding his jaw.

“Liam?” Louis strokes his thumb across Liam’s cheekbone, his heart feeling approximately twelve times too big for his chest.

“Mm?”

“Do you still love me?”

Liam is silent for a long moment which is long enough for Louis to begin to panic, when, “I don’t not still love you,” he replies and Louis doesn’t have a chance to comprehend what that even means before Liam is kissing him again, a bit stronger this time but still just as sweet.

Louis kisses him back without hesitation and it feels like he has been so starved of this kiss the last few years as he allows Liam to push him back down on the sofa until he’s lying underneath him, breathless and giddy.

Liam is smiling down at him and it makes Louis feel all soft around the edges, letting out a quiet giggle when Liam ducks down to kiss the tip of his nose.

“I do love you, so _so_ much,” Louis says with a sigh, “but I don’t deserve you, Li. You’re so beautiful and sweet and charming and you really deserve someone who will make you happy, someone-”

“Someone like Erica?” Liam raises an eyebrow and shakes his head, “Louis you are insane. I mean I’ve always known that but-”

“Hey!” Louis whines with a small laugh, “I’m not insane,”

“You are a little bit,” Liam says fondly, “but don’t you realise that there isn’t a single person who makes me smile as much as you. You’re so beautiful, Lou,” Liam kisses his forehead quickly, “so perfect and funny and adorable. You don’t just make me happy, Lou, you’re just so…”

“You’re just an idiot,” Louis is definitely blushing and he laughs quietly again, looking up at Liam and pushing his hair off his face, “kiss me.”

Liam does and pushes him back further, moving his mouth hot and sweet against Louis’ as he runs his hands across his chest and down his arms until he grabs hold of Louis’ hands. “I love you so fucking much,”

Louis is entirely certain that his heart is about to burst out of his chest as he sighs happily and sits up, pushing Liam up as he goes. Liam looks as if he is about to pout and Louis wishes he could kiss him again- until he remembers that he can- and he does, pulling back to intertwine his fingers with Liam’s and pull him to his feet.

“Come on, let’s go back to bed,” he smiles and Liam grins back at him so that his eyes disappear into those adorable little squints and in dragging Liam down the corridor to the bedroom Louis has to stop to turn around and kiss him twice.

“Louis?” Liam says, once they’re both settled under the duvet, legs tangled and Louis’ head on Liam’s chest.

“Yeah?” Louis asks, looking up at him from under his lashes.

“I hope I make you happy, Lou,”

Louis presses a kiss to Liam’s shoulder as he smiles, “You do. You most definitely do,”

“Good,” Liam says and Louis can feel him relax beneath him, “because you, more than anyone, really deserve someone who can make you happy.”

**Author's Note:**

> :)
> 
>  
> 
>  


End file.
